Swinging on a Rubber Band
by hippiechick2112
Summary: Punished for keeping a disorganized cabinet, Klinger thinks back to another escape attempt when he would literally swing away from insanity. Part seventeen of "The Klinger Chronicles".


**Swinging on a Rubber Band**

**Note and Disclaimer: Obviously, I still don't own _M*A*S*H_ and everything. I'm just another writer for the board. And this is rated as is to keep it safe.**

* * *

**May 16, 1953, 1100 Hours**

Here am I, shuffling along with more paperwork. Yes, I, Klinger the Genius, sit there sorting it all without great enthusiasm. I mean, Major Houlihan was not pleased when she saw how messy it was when I was out sick last week and could not even get up from my cot (and her major complaint being that I filed things under "K" when it was supposed to be "C" and vice versa). Now, instead of cleaning it herself (along with Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt and even Major Winchester) when they had my job, the first day I am up and on my feet, she demands that I do! Oh, the shame! Oh, the agony! Oh –

Dammit! I am missing the poker game tonight! And Major Freedman is going to be there too!

Too bad I can't show off and get him to assist me in getting that Section Eight. Oh, well, if the war is going to be over soon, I might as well stop my planning and get going on helping to end the war and get ready to go home to Toledo. I mean, after getting Soon-Lee freed and all and not be charged, I thought it would be easier to get on with life and go home. Apparently not, I saw.

I must admit, falling in love with Soon-Lee has got to be one of the best things in my life right about now. I'm just pretty sad right now that she might not accept my marriage proposal, if it comes down to that…if she loves me too, that is. I mean, looking for her parents is pretty important (I would do the same for mine if we were stuck here), but I feel very important in her life too and want to be a part of hers.

Well, at least I hope so.

So, as this gallant hero sits and ponders why and how he needs to redo all this paperwork, he also thinks of a Section Eight/escape attempt from the early days of the war. Granted, it was a first cold winter when Colonel Blake was around, but boy, was it a masterpiece from the one and only genius, Klinger!

~00~

**January 21, 1951, 0300 Hours**

Here I am, in the dead of a Korean winter, on guard duty once more. Even though I am wearing the heaviest of all heavy coats (and trust me, I am actually pretty warm for once), underneath, I am wearing something that would surely get me either out of here or a Section Eight. In both instances, I will go home to Toledo without the chains of disgrace!

After all, the only layer I have under this coat is a jungle outfit, a thin dress of some sorts. And I have nothing on underneath the boots I am wearing.

So, you see, I am dressed as Jane, Tarzan's wife. And, ahead of me for many miles (and up in the hills) are ropes that would help me swing to freedom, from the camp, passed all the checkpoints and onward towards Kimpo. And it only took me a day to set it up, when I was on an errand of mercy for Father Mulcahy and the orphans (no need for them to know that I was also trying to get out of here on top of getting the supplies to the orphanage). Oh, the joy! Oh, the rapture! I am going to be free!

I am _shivering_ with excitement!

All is quiet at the camp right now. Save for Major Burns running to the latrine about an hour ago and reading some _National Geographic_ from home, I have not seen anyone that would report me to the MP's. All is quiet in Post-Op, Pre-Op and the OR. Nobody has been seen running around the camp and having me ask the latest password (which, by the way, was "Henry Ford drives a pink car" that week). On the plus side, there has also been no Major Houlihan as well. She was sure to get me back into the stockade once her little blonde head realized she had the power to instead of the old colonel.

I rubbed my hands together as the chill got to my sensitive, hairy fingers. I took my gloves and hat off and prepared myself for my grandest exit from the camp.

"Here goes nothing," I said to myself as I dodged behind a tent at the edge of camp, where the mountains shade it. Then, running as I pushed off my coat and kicked off my boots, I grabbed onto the first rope and swung as my hairs stuck on end and I felt rough goosebumps on my skin.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH‼!"

I swung from one rope to another all right and it almost felt like a rubber band, but I missed the next one, the one before Rosie's Bar. The worst thing about it was not the fall itself, mind you (and let me tell you, the fall was pretty cold, especially when the dress was hiked up to my chest). Worse! As I closed my eyes, I fell right on top of the male officers' latrine and broke right through the roof when someone was in it!

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

_Oops!_

I shook my head as I finally opened my eyes, surprised that I survived a fall intact, even if the boards to the male officers' latrine were kinda flimsy and could easily collapse on weight alone. Nothing seemed broken except for my nose (and it was bleeding, like my arms and legs) and I was nursing that quickly with my dress, which was still over my chest. No, the only thing really broken, worse than my nose, was my spirit…and my pride.

I, a Klinger of intellect, fell through a latrine with someone in it, luckily missing the latrines themselves. And that someone, who recovered quite quickly (much more so than I did) was none other than Colonel Blake.

With his pants pulled up fast (as well as some checkbook put away in a pocket), you would think that old Colonel Blake would not care if someone dropped in while he was doing his business, especially when he was done with it. You would think he would have been flattered to see me, Corporal Klinger, all dressed up for a summer dance in the middle of a Korea winter. You would also think that he would appreciate the natural genius that is me, his favorite orderly that likes to get into trouble with the Army and get dolled up for the Officers' Club.

But _no_…

"Klinger, you better have some good explanation as to why you're disturbing some pretty important business this evening," Colonel Blake growled, making me get up on my feet and drop the dress to my knees. "Not to mention, the reason _why_ you're not on duty!"

I hung my head in shame and it wasn't because I was being scolded for something I supposedly did wrong. No, I was mortified that the escape did not go as I planned it to. And Colonel Blake did not interpret it as being me unwilling to carry through with my duty hours this time either. No, he knew what it meant.

"Sir – Sir!"

Colonel Blake was already pushing boards aside and leaving me in the dirt as he walked to his office. He would not talk to me.

I ran after him still, jumping wood and door as my nose bled onto the cold ground (well, it was a frozen block of blood really). "Sir – Sir – if I could explain – Sir, don't you think I don't deserve to be in this Army?"

Colonel Blake stopped just before Pre-Op and stared at me, saying that only words he'll say to me before getting into his office. "Klinger, get some more clothes on. I don't want to see you without anything covering that hair again!"

~00~

**May 16, 1953, 1200 Hours**

Well, it's about lunchtime now. I had pondered enough about escapes and Section Eights and have actually gotten through A-L on the cabinet in the process. Everything is organized to Major Houlihan's satisfaction, I think, so a well-deserved break is in order. Or so I think!

As I shove the last of the papers into the cabinet and prepare a great "Out to Lunch" sign, Major Houlihan comes into my domain and slams the door behind her. "And just what so you think you're doing?" she asked me, hands on her hips.

"Going out to lunch," I answer casually.

"Oh, no, you're not, you Lebanese twit! Get back to work! You'll get lunch when I say so!"

"But, Major –"

"Don't 'Major' me, buster! You didn't do your job, we found out about it when you were all pitiful, and now, you're paying for it. Get back to work! And if I see you at the Mess Tent now and at dinner, before you're finished, I'll be sure you're through and hung out to dry! Get at it!"

And with that, Major Houlihan leaves me, before I can ask her about the poker game tonight. After all, she said nothing about it and I was hoping to sneak out and at least play a hand or three before Major Freedman gets back to work and leaves us for a while.

I sighed, getting back to the cabinet and going through what was left of "M" section and scheming ever so carefully to get out. _I mean, going to the poker game was not part of the order, right? Right!_

My mind's wheels turned those gears. Another Klinger plan was coming into play and nobody was going to stop me!


End file.
